


His Inner Demons

by prompreg



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Birth, Body Horror, Demon Pregnancy, Forced Pregnancy, Minor Prompto/Noctis, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Trans Male Pregnancy, Trans Pregnancy, Vomiting, difficult birth, forced impregnantion, graphic depiction of birth, hard labor, monster pregnancy, rapid pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-17 02:09:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prompreg/pseuds/prompreg
Summary: Prompto often dreamt of a small, sterile room. The walls, floor and ceiling were always a stark, clinical white, and there was always some sort of table right smack in the center of it. The type of table sometimes changed but Prompto was always strapped down to it and always against his will.--Please mind the tags. Finished fic crossposted from tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompto is a trans man in this fic who is impregnanted against his will and forced to give birth to demons vaginally. If that's not your cup of tea, please steer clear now!

Prompto had a pretty fucked up recurring dream.

He’d been having it since even before high school started, though he couldn’t remember exactly when the first instance was. The dream itself was infrequent but always stuck with him afterwards, made falling asleep even days later a conscious choice. Strangely, it wasn’t a very graphic dream and often the only thing that really happened was an uncomfortable, mounting sense of foreboding. Small details usually changed, but there was a general formula that seemed to hold true.

One, it always took place in what Prompto knew to be some sort of medical facility, and always in the same small room. The walls, floor and ceiling were always a stark, clinical white, and there was always some sort of table right smack in the center of it. The type of table sometimes changed but Prompto was always strapped down to it and always against his will. 

Two, though his position on the table never left Prompto much room to look around the dream always seemed to start with a bright, white light shining in his face, often rousing him from what he perceived to be unconsciousness. The light was mounted to the ceiling, pointed directly onto him, and something about it always set him on edge, made his heart rate quicken even before anything else happened.

Three, there were always tubes connected to him. Though he couldn’t see very much of his own body, due to how he was restrained, Prompto knew there to be metal ports set into his skin where the tubes connected, feeding viscous black sludge directly into his veins. The black liquid made him feel sick and sometimes he would have to sit in front of his toilet even an hour after he woke up, terrified that if he let himself throw up it wouldn’t be stomach acid he’d find in the bowl.

Four, he was very rarely alone. There were usually people in white coats occupying the room with him. Sometimes, Prompto would come aware to multiple people already standing over his table. Though their faces were generally covered and he could never make out any distinguishing features, something about the scene told him they were looking at him and the weight of their gazes always made him feel uncomfortable and exposed. 

The men in the white coats would observe as he was pumped full of the foreign substance, often making notes or murmuring together in a language he didn’t understand. They didn’t seem to care that he couldn’t understand them and either they didn’t understand Lucian or Prompto’s own babble of begging, crying and pleading was uninteresting to them because they never once acknowledged his own attempts at communication.

Other times, though rarely, the only people in the room with him were clad in expressionless metal armour. They stood on the edges of the room and neither spoke nor moved an inch. Though the lack of people in white coats seemed, at first, a relief, something about the presence of the unmoving men in the armor almost made him feel worse.

The infrequency of the dream was Prompto’s only solace and he went to great lengths to make sure he was too exhausted to dream most nights. Keeping busy seemed to help, for the most part. Over weeks and months, he stopped thinking about them nearly as much and stopped scouring the internet in hopes of finding some rhyme or reason for them. No matter how much he looked, nothing seemed to answer his questions anyway.

Then suddenly, Noctis was engaged and in the wake of crash course Crownsguard training and a road trip-turned-RPG adventure, Prompto had found he had very little time in a day left to think about much trivial stuff, let alone the fucked up nightmares he’d been attempting to forget for half his life. Instead, he was thinking about watching not only his but three other backs, about keeping his finger off the trigger until it was absolutely ready to be placed on. He was thinking about where their next meal was coming from and if random civilians were looking at Noct a little too closely to be considered ‘going under the radar’.

He was thinking about those worrying headaches his best friend was having, and if the Disc really held all the answers. 

He was thinking about that strange ‘man of no consequence’ whose eyes strayed to Prompto’s right wrist too often, and too long, to be innocent. Especially not coupled with that almost predatory grin he would flash when Prompto caught him staring.

It must have been his anxiety, the stress of the situation, because even with his mind so busy and his body so weary, Prompto dreamt of a sterile room and being roughly strapped down to a table every night while Ardyn ‘Man-Of-No-Consequence’ Izunia shared their camp.

Only, these dreams were a little bit different. This time, he was strapped to the sort of medical table found in a doctor’s office by each limb, his legs secured in stirrups that forced his knees apart. Now, there was an IV taped to the crook of his arm as well as the usual tubes that pumped more of the black sludge into his veins.

Now, Ardyn himself was there, standing bright and out of place between men in white coats. Now, the strange metal-clad guards against the wall looked an uncomfortable amount like the hoard of MTs they’d fought and felled. It made the whole process seem even more invasive and uncomfortable, especially when the doctor brought out a metal wand and knelt between his spread legs.

“Marvellous,” Ardyn said, eyes sharp as they flicked up from Prompto’s spread legs to look deep into his eyes, marking the first time Prompto had ever been acknowledged in his own dream. It almost distracted him from the feeling of being invaded—but mostly it just made him feel like he was being pierced from two ends.

“It will make a fine host indeed.”

\-----------------

 

When at last Titan had appeared and been defeated, Prompto was glad it spelled an end to Noct’s debilitating headaches, sure, but mostly he was glad to scurry out of Ardyn’s airship (with MTs lined against each wall, silent and unmoving) and wash his hands of the whole endeavour. Surely now that things were going back to normal and he wouldn’t be sharing his sleeping quarters with a man who put him on edge, he could get proper sleep again without thinking about hands where they weren’t meant to be, pushing something inside him.

There were new things to be distracted by, now. The Regalia was missing and traveling had become harder, took away most of Prompto’s meager down time. It meant he couldn’t dwell much on Ardyn or his presence in what Prompto felt was the worst of the dreams yet. It meant he was entirely focused on fighting for his life and defending his prince. But it wasn’t just the local, deadly wildlife and demons in pursuit of them. Despite Ardyn’s intervention, MTs still presented a daily struggle and now that he’d seen them in his nightmares, every flash of inhuman, glowing red eyes seemed to put him back on that table.

With a constant reminder in his waking life, the dreams persisted even despite his exhaustion. It seemed every other night he awoke on that table, a white coat beside him. Ardyn, at least, was gone. But it was hard to count it as a win when he still ended up in that room, when the men in the white coats seemed to have grown bolder. They touched him with gloved hands, hooked up machines Prompto had never seen to his body, around the usual tubes and IV. 

Sometimes all they did was take his vitals, jotted notes on their clipboards and flashed lights in his eyes. Other times, he was back in the stirrups and someone was kneeling between his legs. Prompto wasn’t sure what they could possibly be doing, but whatever it was he hated that particular flavour of dream the most. Now, more than ever, he felt like a proper lab experiment. 

Ending up in that room every other night was doing little favours for his sleep. The nightmares woke him prematurely, sapped even his desire to sleep. It almost felt like every time he closed his eyes he was back there, being watched and touched and analysed. 

The guys, of course, were noticing. The lack of sleep was affecting his focus and his fighting, was making him slow and bleary-eyed. He knew he couldn’t keep going on like this, not with their journey being what it was. But they couldn’t stop moving, not without the car, and it was taking them days to reach a proper outpost with an actual motel now that they’d run out of time on the chocobo lease.

So he persevered, pushed himself despite his exhaustion and smiled to reassure the guys. 

They holed up at Wiz’s Chocobo Post when at last their aching legs carried them there and renewed their rental for some birds, hoping to give their feet a rest. When Prompto complained, asking if they could please stay in one place for just a little while, Ignis relented all too easily. It proved just how worried they all actually were about his lack of energy that not even Gladio attempted to protest. Or maybe they were all just dead tired after everything they’d been through.

The safe place to sleep did do wonders for them all, took away some of the stress that had been on all their shoulders since Noct’s headaches started, what felt like forever ago. In the safety of the camper they at last relaxed, waiting to hear from Cindy about the whereabouts of the car. It seemed the smart thing to do was to wait where they could while Cindy searched and so they signed up for some hunts, staked a claim on the camper, and hunkered down to wait.

\-------------------

A little more than a week passed. The Regalia was located, the Niff base housing her destroyed, a new goal obtained, and business as usual returned. But the dreams persisted and even days in a safe bed hadn’t done much for the bags under Prompto’s eyes.

It was really starting to affect his fighting and the concerned glances from all three of his traveling companions were starting to give way to anger, at least where Gladio was concerned.

It all came to a head, as of course it was bound to, while they were on their way to a hunt of what was supposed to be just a small pack of voretooth. Voretooth weren’t very difficult on their own, but they did pack their fair share of venom and, as such, they were all to be alert. The mission left no room for nonsense: they were to get in, dispatch them, and get out. It was an easy plan, and it wasn’t like they didn’t take voretooth out nearly every day, besides. Prompto, even with some serious purple luggage under his eyes, should have had no problem.

But just as they were knee-deep in a fiesty pack of nasties, an Imperial dropship appeared right on their heads. It was the sort of back luck they were used to, by this point.

“Regroup!” Ignis called from halfway across the battlefield and Prompto watched as Noct phased out of existence to reappear by Iggy’s side. Gladio was still fighting his way through more than his fair share of the beasts, shield held at attendance, and Prompto, somehow on the other side of the fray, cursed quietly as he counted the beats standing between him and his friends.

Three.

That was manageable, especially when Ignis noticed his predicament and helpfully tossed a dagger into the skull of one that hadn’t gotten bored of Prompto yet.

“Prompto!” That was Ignis again, seemingly not quite worried but maybe annoyed at how far away Prompto had let himself get. The dropship was open and Prompto watched as the battalion of metal soldiers lept from its open maw, entirely too close for comfort.

For a second, none of the MTs moved. Prompto caught himself staring at the hard lines of their still faces, all in a perfect row.

A single metal face turned, and glowing red eyes seemed to stare right into his.

All at once, the entire formation moved, snipers raising their guns and axemen charging ahead in that sickening way they ran. Prompto couldn’t hold back his shout of alarm as the one that met his eyes barrelled straight for him.

Prompto felt impact and went down, gun knocked from his hand. It hadn’t been from the MT, the position was wrong, so he jerked his head back just in time to see Noct sheathing his blade in the body of a voretooth.

Oh. Prompto had completely forgotten about them. 

He was slightly dazed as he watched the engine blade exit the creature, blood trailing in its wake, and it took him another moment to realize Noctis was turning toward him, expression hard to make out.

“Prom, what happened?” Noct said, and as he finally came to face him, Prompto at last noticed the blood dripping freely down his friend’s arm, originating from a mangled mess of a bite on his forearm.

“I was,” Prompto started, suddenly confused, and abruptly jerked his head back toward the MT battalion, but found only open field. He scrambled to his feet, moving his head back and forth as he tried, in vain, to find the entire dropship full of MTs that had been there just moments ago.

A hand found his arm and Prompto’s eyes met blue, not red. Noct’s worried face came into view, pinched with pain, and when Gladio and Ignis came jogging up from behind him the looks on both their faces were murderous.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Gladio demanded, coming well into Prompto’s personal space as Ignis pulled Noct aside by his elbow, antidote already in hand. Prompto found his eyes glued to the blood on his friend’s arm, even as Gladio nearly pressed their faces together with how close he was getting to yell.

“It’s your job to protect Noct! You almost cost him his godsdamned life with that idiotic stunt!” Prompto’s gaze was jerked to Gladio by a rough hand on his shoulder. Fight or flight was clearly still not working because Prompto found his gaze wandering back toward Noct again.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” He heard Gladio demand, and then Ignis was there, face just a firm as he placed the back of his hand to Prompto’s forehead.

“Fever. He’s delirious.” 

“He get bit?”

“You okay, Prom?”

There were hands on him and voices overlapping, making it hard for Prompto to focus. He still hadn’t found the MTs and that was important, that was vital because he may have dropped the ball with that voretooth but he wouldn’t let the same thing happen again.

Only there were no MTs, just Gladio looking decidedly stiff and uncomfortable a few paces further back than Prompto remembered him being and Ignis running firm, gloved hands over his back and Noct, hovering close and holding an antidote in unsure hands.

“I don’t see any blood and Prompto doesn’t appear to be in any pain,” Ignis said but it seemed premature for as soon as his words had been spoken Prompto felt a sudden sharp stab of pain in his abdomen.

He doubled over, hands instinctively flying to his stomach to cover the hurt. There was another flurry of voices and of hands. Prompto felt gloved fingers prying his hands away, his shirt untucked and lifted up.

“That’s new?” Noct said, sounding unsure.

The same gloved fingers gently pressed where Prompto’s hands had been and even that small amount of pressure had him shying back. Ignis lifted his chin just as gently and seemed to search his face when at last he lifted his head.

“No bruising, but the fever is concerning. Prompto, can you take a potion?”

One was pressed into his hands immediately. His fingers fumbled with it until Noct gently took it back and upended it over the slightly distended swell of his stomach.

The cramp gradually went away but the swelling didn’t and Prompto found himself staring at it, wondering when it had appeared. He still carried some amount of softness around his middle even after all those years of diet and exercise but that hard, raised bit was definitely new.

They camped at a haven that night. Now that they were back to the usual grind, staying at campers and motels every night was just too frivolous, even with Prompto nursing a fever. But Ignis prepared soup for dinner and Gladio tucked him into the plush covers they’d spread on the floor of the tent and Noct pressed a dripping, cool compress onto his forehead and snuggled in beside him, hovering and concerned.

Prompto fell asleep as easily and quickly as he usually did when they’d run around all day and finally collapsed onto a real, soft bed. The tent wasn’t the same but the warmth and comfort of the three of them pressed close nearly was.


	2. Chapter 2

It was becoming increasingly apparent that something was very wrong. Prompto’s fever had not broken and what had started as a small, hard swell in his abdomen seemed to grow overnight. The pain he felt in it wasn’t particularly terrible, but it was persistent, and brought with it an annoying bout of nausea. When Ignis suggested packing up the camp, Prompto promptly lost the fight with his stomach and the three agreed to take it easy for another day.

But even the next day, the fever and the bloating and the abdominal pain and the nausea persisted. If anything, it had all gotten worse. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep from the dreams that still haunted him that kept him from getting better, or perhaps it was Prompto’s panic and anxiety over watching his stomach grow practically before his eyes. For on the second day in their camp, it had indeed grown again. The swell was noticeable now even with a shirt on and none of them could make sense of it.

“We should bring Prompto to a doctor,” Ignis suggested that morning, as he allowed Prompto to smooth his shirt back down. There was a pinched look on his face, barely concealed concern, that made Prompto’s heart beat ever quicker.

“So you don’t know what it is?” Noctis asked, sitting at Prompto’s side and not even attempting to hold back his panic. Though as sweet as the concern was, it only seemed to amplify Prompto’s own.

“I’m not a doctor!” It spoke wonders to the panic Ignis was clearly trying to hide, that some amount of it managed to slip into his voice.

“You’re freaking him out,” Gladio chimed in, brows drawn in close and gaze focused right on him.

The three of them worrying and looking and prodding at him was doing little to make Prompto feel better. He was feeling about as much as a lab experiment as he did in his dreams. Though a doctor was probably a good idea, the thought of going to a medical facility, of ending up on a table in a stark white room made his hands shake and his palms sweat.

“Please, no doctors,” Prompto at last spoke, unable to hide his own panic. As much as his growing stomach frightened him, the dreams had set into him an even more pressing and all-consuming fear.

“I can hold out another day or two,” He added, as unsure eyes met his.

Ignis held his gaze for several moments before he relented with a sigh.

“Fine. But I’ll be monitoring you closely and if you show no signs of improving soon I really must insist.”

It was better than nothing, and so Prompto nodded quickly, hand over his heart and the other raised in surrender.

“Promise, dude.”

Despite his state, staying in one spot for so long was hardly an option. Though the haven protected them from demons, it did nothing to keep out the local wildlife and staying still so long meant that the Empire and their hoard of MTs had learned of their position. When the second drop ship in as many hours appeared by their location, the group had to call it.

Packing up camp was harder with one of them on light duty, but they thankfully managed it before a third ship could come around. As it was, they were driving away in the Regalia when Prompto spotted it upending metal soldiers even more uncomfortably close to their camp than the others had been.

He watched them from the rearview mirror, and found that he couldn’t look away until they had completely disappeared from view.

“Great timing, guys,” he said, and forced as much lighthearted cheer into his voice as he could to keep the others from worrying too much. 

 

=

Having a man down with a fever and an upset stomach meant they had to make frequent stops. Their progress was slow going and stilted, and even though they drove until nightfall, uncomfortably early of late, they made less progress than expected or desired.

They camped at the first haven they could find, and played rounds of cards and King’s Knight before Ignis ushered a nodding-off Prompto to bed despite his protests. Noctis stood with him when it became clear he wouldn’t be going without some coercing, and sat down with him on the plush floor of the tent.

“You okay?” He asked, when at last Prompto had shimmed under their pile of blankets, “You don’t seem like you’ve been sleeping much lately.”

That was the understatement of the year and Prompto couldn’t help but laugh, though it sounded bitter even to his own ears.

“I’ve been having nightmares,” Prompto found himself admitting before he could stop himself, and the sympathy that entered Noct’s eyes had him grasping at the tail ends of assurances before he could even think.

“I mean, it’s not a big deal,” he added, avoiding Noct’s gaze, “everyone has nightmares. It’s just hard to get a good night’s sleep, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Noct replied, and the gentle way he spoke proved that he did. 

After everything, of course Noct had his own share of nightmares. It made Prompto feel like a jerk, having Noct’s concern and compassion aimed at him when Noct himself had everything so much worse. But before Prompto could flounder for more assurances, Noct was scooting closer and placing a gentle hand on his head. Noct carded his fingers through his hair, touch ever gentle, and all the fight completely left him after that. He was asleep almost instantly, lulled by his best friend’s gentle fingers and overwhelming compassion.

That night, for the first time in a long time, his sleep was blissfully dreamless.

=

In the end, it took Ignis another four days to convince Prompto to see a doctor. It didn’t matter that every day his stomach grew, that the fever and the abdominal cramping persisted, that he’d lost at least a meal a day to the nausea wracking his system. 

Once, when the swell of his stomach had grown enough, Gladio suggested pregnancy and aimed a strange look at Noctis, but Ignis had been the first to shut that suggestion down, before either Prompto or Noct could comment on the assumption of their relationship.

“Pregnancies are not this rapid,” Ignis had insisted, and levelled Gladio with the sort of look that even he backed down to.

Strange as the suggestion was, once the seed was planted, Prompto couldn’t get it out of his head. 

He wasn’t a virgin and, sure, he’d had sex with Noct before they’d left on the trip. But even though the sex itself had been the accumulation of years of repressed feelings and the knowledge that Noct’s engagement meant they could never be together, they’d taken every precaution. It wouldn’t do for the engaged prince to knock up another right before his wedding, after all.

But for all intents and purposes, he looked pregnant. His stomach had swollen to what he assumed was nearly second-trimester stage. And when he placed his hands on his stomach, he swore he could sometimes feel movement. It unnerved him more than anything, had him running to the bathroom to sit in front of the toilet or, if they were in the car, begging Iggy to pull over so he could press his head between his knees until the shaking stopped.

It didn’t help that his breasts were starting to ache more than usual, too, making binding uncomfortable. When he looked up his symptoms, against his better judgement, Gladio’s ill-made suggestion popped up more than he was comfortable with.

He’d never been more afraid of his own body before, and, six days into his terrible not-pregnancy, that fear at last took precedence over the rest.

So they paused what they were doing, piled into the Regalia, and set their sights on Lestallum.

With the days so short, actually getting there was no easy task. They were forced to stop for the night, thankfully at an outpost with a camper. Panicking would do them no good, so for the hours before sleep, they all attempted to take their mind off things with food and games. 

The elephant in the room was still so apparent to Prompto despite that, however, and he retired early to keep their stares off of him. His nerves were shot, his anxiety the worst it had ever been, and despite his friends’ concern coming from a place of love, he found it too much. So he settled into the camper’s bottom bunk, wrapped arms around himself, and tried to sleep.

He woke up on the table, naked and strapped to the stirrups. The white-coated man beside him, unmistakably a doctor, poured something cold onto his stomach and spread it around. Prompto tried, in vain, to see his face, and begged for an explanation.

The man, as usual, ignored him, and pressed an instrument firmly onto his stomach, trailing it along the whole swollen mass of it.

“Ah! What progress you’ve made!” A voice said, both the language and the lilt familiar, and when Prompto raised panicked eyes it was to meet the grinning face of Ardyn Izunia. 

“Wouldn’t you like to look, pet?” Ardyn asked, speaking to Prompto for the second time. His knowing eyes seemed to mesmerise him, and when he pointed at the contraption beside the doctor, Prompto felt compelled to follow the hand with his eyes.

The machine held a screen and, upon it, an ultrasound. Prompto watched, transfixed and horrified, as something moved.

“Ah, it has your eyes,” Ardyn crooned, mirth plain in his voice. 

Prompto felt his world collapse from underneath him, and couldn’t hold back his scream.

 

He awoke, something bound tight around his middle and against his back, though he couldn’t make it out in the dark. Panicked, he struggled and pushed, finding resistance at first until it gave away. The object binding him unwound, the form against him moved away, and at last his wild eyes found another pair, as warm hands tentatively settled on his shoulders.

“Prom?” Noct asked, worry clear in his eyes even in the dark. Prompto practically gasped in relief, limbs trembling as his friend seized his cheeks in each hand.

“Prompto,” He said again, low and with conviction. “I’m here.”

Prompto leaned into his friend, let Noct wind arms back around him and hold him close until his trembling had subsided and his breathing settled into something more calm. He didn’t fall asleep again, however, even with Noct gently petting his hair. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the ultrasound, felt the gel and the wand on his skin. He buried his face in Noct’s shoulder, took a shuddering breath, and let himself cry.

 

=

 

They arrived in Lestallum a few hours before the sun set the next day, and Prompto wondered if it was possible for nerves to strangle a person alive. His heart beat swiftly and his stomach cramped more than was becoming his usual. Even his hands had taken to subtly shaking, attempting to release some of the nervous energy that was plaguing him.

He felt like he’s been hastily glued together at the seams, not quite put together, not quite human, and when they at last pulled up and spotted the familiar red car parked only paces away from their own, and the figure leaning against it, that feeling only magnified.

Ardyn was there and the moment their group caught his gaze, his eyes zeroed right in on Prompto’s stomach as if, somehow, he knew. Those eyes seemed to see straight through him and when Ardyn grinned, the predatory tilt of his lips struck fear right into Prompto’s heart.

“Oh, pet,” he said, eyes roving up Prompto’s body to peer straight into his soul, “when are you due?”

All at once, there was movement at Prompto’s side as the guys moved forward, essentially blocking Prompto from Arden’s view. It felt a bit like he was the one with bodyguards, to see them all jump so quickly to his defence. It made Prompto’s heart clench.

Ardyn placed his hands up in surrender, looking admonished. Prompto didn’t buy it for a moment.

“So quick to defence!” He crooned, laughing to himself, “and here I came all this way to impart upon you the secret to young Prompto’s ailment.” 

Tutting, Ardyn shook his head in what passed for disappointment.

“What do you mean?” Noctis asked quickly, anger clear in his voice about the same time that Gladio growled, “What did you do?”

“Now, now,” Ardyn said, “is that any way to treat the man come to your aid?” 

“Get on with it,” Ignis replied, sounding a beat away from anger himself. “Say what you know or step aside.”

“It is awfully personal, perhaps dear Prompto would prefer the news broken in private?” Ardyn suggested, anything but innocently.

Before Prompto himself could respond, the guys beat him to the punch, nearly all at once.

“Not gonna happen.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fuck that.”

“You wound me, so,” Ardyn said, hand to heart and mock-offence in his tone. “Have I given you any reason to distrust me? I promised safe harbour last we met and I delivered upon that promise.”

“And lost our car in a Nif base while you were at it,” Noct replied, rapid-fire.

“I promised nothing about the car,” Ardyn grinned.

“There’s no sense entertaining this nonsense,” Ignis said, and placed a hand on Prompto’s shoulders to lead him away. “We already have a destination in mind. If you’d excuse us.”

“I wouldn’t go to a hospital if I were you,” Ardyn called to their retreating backs. Prompto froze, and had to actively fight the instinct to turn back and look at him.

“The staff might not take too kindly to what they find inside.”

No longer able to hold back the urge, despite Ignis’ firm hand ushering him forward, Prompto glanced over his shoulder. Ardyn grinned, as if pleased.

“Dreams often hold important insight into the waking world, wouldn’t you agree?” The man called to them again, but Prompto knew he was speaking directly to him. It left his mouth dry and his stomach churning, even as the man faded from view.


	3. Chapter 3

They arrived at the hospital and were promptly stuck in the waiting room. Noctis had never had much experience in public hospitals, being the prince, but going under the radar meant he wasn’t allowed to throw that weight around any longer. So there they stayed, first for one hour and then another. The wait was terrible, punctuated by the meek moans of the sick and wails of the young. The woman they sat closest to bled steadily for the first hour, until at last her name was called.

Throughout the wait, as terrible and boring as it was, the most terrible aspect of it was Prompto. Noct knew Prompto was filled with restless energy from ADHD and a diagnosed anxiety disorder but he’d never seen him behave quite the way he did in that waiting room. He bounced his leg insistently, clenched and unclenched his hands in the fabric of his pants, and bit at the skin of his knuckles until they bled. But every time the door would open and the nurse would step out to read the name of the next patient, Prompto would stop everything; the bouncing, the clenching, the biting, and stare with wide eyes and held breath until she and the next patient had disappeared.

It was more than a little concerning. 

About halfway through their wait, while Gladio went to stretch his legs and Ignis wandered off for coffee, Noctis settled in beside Prompto and laced their fingers together. The comforting gesture seemed to help, but only until the next patient was called. That was about how long Prompto was able to focus on the round of King’s Knight Noct bullied him into, too, in the hopes it would take his mind off of things.

By the time two hours had come and gone, Prompto’s nervous fidgeting had truly turned into a whole body affair. His bouncing knee was starting to make even Noctis anxious.

“It shouldn’t be long now,” he tried to sooth, but Prompto’s attention was still on that door.

“I don’t,” Prompto started to say, just as the nurse stepped back into the waiting room. He abruptly stopped talking, eyes wide as he waited for the name, like he’d waited for every other.

“Argentum,” she said, and Prompto stiffened like a board beside him. Ignis and Gladio stood, clearly ready, but Prompto didn’t move. The panic on his face made Noct’s heart clench again and he leaned in to speak to him softly.

“Prom, c’mon. It’s almost over with.” 

They rose together, Prompto still clearly hesitant, and when they moved forward Prompto grasped his hand again. Noctis could feel the way he trembled against him.

The nurse led them to another room, this one private and with a medical table on one side. She had Prompto sit on it to take his vitals, promised the doctor would be along soon, and then made her exit as quickly as if she’d never been there at all.

As soon as the door had closed behind her, Prompto spoke. Noct noticed that his hands were clenched tight around the edge of the plush table he was still sitting on.

“Guys,” he said, voice strained, “we should go. It’s probably nothing, I don’t need to be here.”

It was clearly a lie; his stomach had only grown in size the longer they’d waited and his skin was much paler than usual. The vomiting had yet to fully stop and he was weaker than normal to boot. Nothing about it was normal or easily passed off and Ignis said so with a stern look.

“Plus, we just waited two hours,” Gladio pointed out, annoyance thinly veiled in his voice.

But Prompto’s anxious knee-bouncing didn’t stop and his hands only tightened on the table. Noctis placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on his back.

When the doctor walked in, medical file open in his hands, Prompto’s movement stopped as abruptly as it had when the nurse called his name. Noctis turned his gaze from the doctor back to Prompto, and was startled at the open fear on his face. It was the sort of look Prompto got when an MT dropship stopped right over their heads while they were already knee-deep in nasties, or when he had to hastily swap his gun out for the circular saw when an enemy got too close too fast. It was panicked and fearful and helpless, and more than anything it made Noct want to scoop him up and take him somewhere, anywhere else.

“So, Mr. Argentum,” the doctor was saying, at last lifting his head from the file. “I hear you’re having some gastric issues. What are your symptoms?”

Prompto didn’t reply and so, after a slightly awkward moment, Ignis stepped forward to converse with him.

Noctis vaguely heard Ignis listing symptoms, but was more focused on Prompto and that strange look on his face.

“You okay?” He asked, voice low.

“I can’t do this,” Prompto replied, sounding as shaken as Noctis had ever heard him. “I can’t stay here, Noct.” The eyes he turned on Noct seemed to freeze him in place, they were so full of panic.

“The doctor’s just gonna find out what’s wrong so we can fix it,” He tried to sooth, but Prompto shook his head and slid off the table. Noctis noted the way his whole body seemed to be shaking.

“I can’t, Noct. I need to go. Please, let’s just go.” Something about Prompto’s expression compelled Noct to obey and he nodded, hesitantly.

“Hey, Ignis?” He called, hand bracing on Prompto’s back. “Sorry, doc, but we’re gonna go.”

“What the hell?” Gladio rumbled from the door, pinning the two of them with a look that was quickly edging from annoyance into anger.

“My apologies, doctor. If we could just have a moment?” Ignis was there, doing damage control, and led the doctor from the room. When the door was closed, he turned to them with a sharp look in his eye.

“What’s the meaning of this, Prompto? We agreed you would see the doctor.”

“Plus,” Gladio added again, as if he was speaking to children, “We just waited for two fucking hours.”

“I can’t,” Prompto said again, sounding just about close to tears. “I’m sorry, guys. But I can’t be here. I really need to go. Please, Iggy.” 

Ignis met his scared, watery gaze, and held it for several moments.

“Give us the room, if you’d please. Noct, Gladio?”

The two of them waited outside of the door for a few minutes before Ignis joined them, a miserable-looking Prompto at his side.

“We’re leaving,” Was all he said as he led them from the hospital.

***

They rented their usual room at the Leville and none of them attempted to lift the silence until at last they were within its walls and behind a locked door. After the long and arduous week they’d all endured, it was almost tempting to leave things where they were just to turn in for the night. 

But Noctis was beside himself with worry, especially knowing whatever was up with Prompto had gotten even Ignis to leave their room at the hospital with what seemed to be little fuss. He’d found himself unable to take his eyes off Prompto in his worry, and watched as he wrung shaking hands together and bounced his leg with that same restless energy from the waiting room. 

 

Gladio was clearly too annoyed to deal with the silence and the fact that they’d waited so long because after a few tense minutes he loudly announced he was going to get dinner. Ignis offered to go along with him, but only after a very long, pointed look at Prompto.

With that, the two of them were left alone. Noctis didn’t want to make Prompto feel pressured to talk but he couldn’t help but look at him, probably expectantly, as soon as the door was shut behind their friends’ retreating backs.

“What’s going on, Prom?” Noctis at last asked when it seemed his friend needed a gentle shove to speak. Almost at once, Prompto buried his face in his hands and hunched in on himself.

“You’re going to think I’m fucking nuts,” Prompto said, voice muffled by his hands and sounding more miserable than he ever had before.

Noct’s heart clenched seeing the person he loved so much hurting that way, thinking that way. He hurried to Prompto’s side and dropped to his knees in front of his sitting position on the bed, touched his arms and gently tugged a hand away from his face.

“I promise you, Prom, I would never think that,” he said with conviction and hoped that his sincerity was apparent. It must have been enough, because eventually Prompto uncurled enough to let Noctis in.

“It’s a demon,” Prompto finally said, voice so hushed Noct could barely make it out. He sounded so frightened, like if he spoke any louder the demon in question would suddenly exist in the middle of the room and destroy them.

Noctis felt his blood go cold.

“What’s a demon?” he asked, slowly. Prompto tightened a hand around his middle, which was more answer than Noct thought he could take.

As if sensing that Noct was starting to doubt his mental integrity, Prompto launched into an explanation that was only half coherent and getting less and less so the longer he spoke, panic clearly ruling him.

He talked about a dream he’d had for years, about doctors and Ardyn and the strange warning the man had made to them just hours before.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” Prompto said as he seemed to be winding down, voice shaky and terrified, “but then I started feeling it /moving/.” Terrified blue eyes met Noct’s own, seemed to pierce him right in place.

“Noct, I’m so scared.”

Thinking about a demon child inhabiting his best friend’s body was more than a little horrific. It was the least sane thing he’d ever heard. But Prompto clearly had something going on inside him and the timeline didn’t work out for it to be of Noct’s blood. Though he had his doubts, it was that small, scared voice that truly convinced him. Whether or not it was true, Prompto believed it.

Rising to his feet, Noctis wrapped arms around trembling shoulders and held on as tightly as he could, as if the ring of his arms could somehow protect the boy within them.

***

It had taken a lot of convincing to get Prompto to stick around for Ignis and Gladio to return. As soon as he spoke the word ‘demon’ aloud, he seemed ready to shake out of his own skin with nerves. 

“I can’t stay with you!” He’d said, pacing, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. “What if it bursts out and attacks you? Noct, it’s my job to protect you!”

Noct had had to pull him into another embrace and hold and pet his hair for several minutes, until his heartbeat and the tears on his cheeks slowed.

“You’re not going anywhere. If it is a…. If it’s /that/, you need us Prom,” he’d reasoned, Prompto’s head on his lap and tears soaking his pants. He’d carded fingers through blond hair and whispered his assurances, until he was all but dozing when Ignis and Gladio finally returned, food in hand.

None of them touched any of it, and Noctis knew Ignis had filled Gladio in on whatever it was Prompto had told him.

The silence was overbearing, overwhelming. It made Noct want to scream if only to fill it. But instead he carded fingers through Prompto’s hair and whispered soothing nonsense into his ear and promised never to leave him alone until at last Prompto’s breathing evened out and he fell asleep.

Sleep, for once, did not come easy to Noctis. The silence was almost too much after so long in cramped quarters with his usually rowdy friends. Prompto had always been the liveliest of all of them and to have his voice quieted changed the whole dynamic. Uncomfortable and hyper aware of everyone else, Noctis fought for many long hours until at last sleep claimed him, too.

When he woke up the next morning, Prompto was gone.

***

The note simply read ‘I couldn’t risk it’, and the intention was clear even to Ignis and Gladio, to whom Prompto hadn’t mentioned leaving. Noctis found them speaking in hushed tones when he awoke, the note between them and somber looks on each of their faces.

“What the fuck are you waiting for?” Noctis demanded the moment he put two and two together, racing about the room for his shoes. “We have to go find him!”

Ignis watched him, silent and somber, even as Noctis nearly tripped trying to hastily put his boots on over his too-long pajama pants while standing.

“Noct,” He said, and the tone of his voice just made Noct’s heart beat faster. “I’ve already attempted calling him, but his phone went straight to voicemail.” 

“So?” Noctis barked back, “He can’t have gotten far, he’s sick.”

“His bird’s gone,” Gladio supplied, arms crossed and face tight. “We already checked. Phone turned off means we can’t even track him. Give him some time to cool down and get his head on straight.”

“Are you serious?” Noctis demanded, grief and anger at war on his face and in his heart. With a chocobo, Prompto could be well out of Lestallum. “He thinks he has a fucking demon inside him, Gladio! You really think we should be waiting for him to cool down? Who knows what he’s going to do!”

“Noct,” Ignis said again, tone still calm and gentle, as if Noctis was some stressed animal that could be soothed.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Ignis!” Noctis bit back, more aggressive than his friend honestly deserved, “We have to find him!”

“And we will,” Ignis said, “but not by panicking. Change your clothes, take a breath and calm down.”

 

Noctis did not change his clothes, though he did take a deep breath. 

“We’re going,” he said, voice firm and leaving no room for argument.

“Look,” Gladio said, coming forward, “Prompto leaving? Stupid and dangerous. But the kid had a point. If it is what he says it is, that puts you in danger.”

“So, what?” Noct demanded, and turned seething eyes on his friend, “Every moment we waste is another he gets further away! You want to let him deal with this alone?”

“We’re not saying that,” Ignis said, just as calm and placating as before. “Just that perhaps it would be best if someone else looks. I’ve already sent word out to Cor.”

Noctis made a noise of disgust, betrayal in his eyes. Cor was a great warrior and no doubt a seasoned tracker, but he didn’t know Prompto like they did. He wasn’t who Prompto needed.

But Gladio and Ignis would not be budged. In the end, Noctis locked himself in the bathroom and scrubbed at his face and fought to keep his muscles from trembling too much. He was angry, sure, at Gladio and Ignis for not panicking the same way Noct himself was, and for leaving Prompto in someone else’s hands. But he was more angry at himself, for having heard Prompto’s plan and not having done anything. He hadn’t actually expected his friend to leave, especially not in the middle of the night.

Waking up to Prompto gone and being unable to look for him felt about as bad as waking up to the news of Insomnia’s fall. The helplessness was certainly the same, at least. And losing Prompto now, after he’d already lost so much? He just couldn’t take it.

The water on his face did help, as did the moment of quiet grief. His heartbeat gradually slowed, the panic abated. Prompto was resilient and he was smart. He’d be able to make it without them for a little while. And if Noctis knew Prompto like he thought he did, finding him shouldn’t be an impossible task. 

Giving Ignis and Gladio the slip? That would be the hardest part.


	4. Chapter 4

In the end, it was easier than it rightfully should have been to set out to look for Prompto on his own. Perhaps Gladio and Ignis thought higher of him than he expected, or at least thought he had better self-preservation skills, because it was almost painfully easy to slip out of the hotel room in the middle of the following night.

Of course he felt bad for it. He’d convinced the two of them to stay at the Leville again just in case Prompto showed up, and chancing a last peek at their sleep-smooth faces nearly made him stay behind. He’d been taught all his life to stay with his guard, to let them do their jobs. But he’d broken that rule as long as he’d lived, too. He was the last of his line, now, and his safety was more paramount than before, but Prompto always was the person he would have given anything for.

Prompto was the person he’d spent years pining for, the person he’d really wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Treaty and arranged marriage and potential demon pregnancy aside, Prompto still was.

It was that thought that let Noctis slip out of the room, unbeknownst to his sleeping guard, when the demons were most plentiful and active. If it was for Prompto, Noctis would brave a whole lot more.

So he called his chocobo and raced out into the night, not once looking back.

***

It was as hard as Noct expected, being out on his own. He’d never been beyond the walls by himself, had never been out in the demon-filled night by himself, but his chocobo was fast and he was determined. He made great strides by pushing his bird to her limits, racing past demons before they could fully manifest or catch wind of him.

Like that, he made a nice dent in his journey until his bird was too exhausted to go any further. He found a haven for them and let her rest upon the runes, his back pressed into her warm down. It was the most comfortable they could be, considering the circumstances, and he dozed to the distant sounds of aimless demons.

It was his phone that awoke him, just before the sun rose. Ignis’ name was on the caller ID, and Noctis cursed as realization came to him. The sun was just beginning to peek at the horizon, and Noctis knew he and his bird hadn’t had much time to rest, but morning meant Gladio and Ignis searching for him with the car. Instead of answering the call, he let it go to voicemail, though he quickly typed out an ‘im alive’ text before Ignis had a hernia.

No sooner had the text sent did Ignis call again, and Noctis silenced the ringer before it could continue. He would have to turn his phone off to keep them from tracking him, but a quick call to Prompto was a necessity.

It went straight to voicemail, of course, and Noctis sighed even as he turned his own device off.

Far from the expert of the group when it came to direction, Noctis had at least had the sense to bring the map. He poured over it as his chocobo walked them in the direction he thought he was going, and when he happened upon the rest stop he’d been aiming for, he patted himself on the back and his bird on the head in triumph.

Travelling was much smoother after a few hours of sleep and a meal in each of their stomachs. It was amazing what a chocobo could do, and Noctis made sure to praise his bird and slip her some greens frequently as she carried him across the region. 

Still, even moving from sunup and stopping very infrequently, the sun set again before they’d reached their destination. Noctis brought his bird to a halt at a nearby haven and made a fire the way Gladio had taught him. Dinner was takeout from a rest stop he’d passed some hours before, and he watched the moon rise with no small amount of trepidation stewing in his gut.

There was no doubt that Ignis and Gladio had been searching for him since that morning. Cor had probably given up the hunt for Prompto to look, too. Hell, Monica and the rest of the displaced Crownsguard were probably all on his tail. Staying in one spot was too dangerous with that knowledge. No demon would stop someone like Cor the Immortal. So he rested for only a few hours before he and his bird were on the trail again. He spent the night that way, running from haven to haven with only a few hours between each stop, hoping the rest would be enough for them both in the morning.

When the moon was high in the sky and they were stopped for a blissful hour or two, Noctis turned his phone on again. He had dozens of missed calls and texts from Ignis, Gladio and Cor. Even some from Monica, Iris, and a few unknown numbers. But nothing from Prompto. Biting his lip, he tried to get through to him again, and though he wasn’t shocked to go straight to voicemail it did make his heart clench anyway.

He turned his phone off again and roused his bird with a sigh. Even having it on that long could have drawn them to his location, and he was far from ready to go back. So he ran back off into the night, praying he wouldn’t be too late when he at last made it where he was sure Prompto had gone.

***

It took half of the next day before he finally reached the beginning of the treeline that meant he was in the Nebulawood. On the map, Lestallum and Wiz’s Chocobo Post seemed so close, but on a bird that required rest, the distance was three times as long. It had been days since he’d last seen Prompto, now, and Noctis had no idea what to expect. He’d been so sick before, and his condition had worsened so drastically. Had he even made it out this far? He’d been travelling on a bird as well, and if Noctis had had difficulty, he couldn’t imagine how Prompto’s journey had gone. 

If he’d even come to the Nebulawood, a doubtful part of him whispered. Was this really where he’d want to go if he had a demon growing inside him? It was easily Prompto’s favorite place, but suddenly Noctis wasn’t so sure. He pulled out his phone again and quickly turned it on, as if suddenly Prompto would be taking his calls and letting him use the built-in Find My Friends feature.

Still, he called the number, and was only a little devastated when it went straight to voicemail again. This time, though, he also sent a few texts.

Noct: where r u  
Noct: pls get back to me prom  
Noct: im at wizs  
Noct: if ur nearby PLEASE let me know

It wouldn’t matter if his retinue found him now, so Noctis kept his phone on for Prompto, though he didn’t actively try to call anyone else either. 

Wiz’s Chocobo Post itself didn’t turn up any runaway blondes, but Noctis hadn’t exactly expected it to. Wiz could say, however, that he’d seen Prompto the day before, his chocobo looking as worn as Noct’s own and just as eager to settle down in her pen and peck at the best greens he could afford.

“That boy didn’t look too good,” Wiz added, even as he set out some gysahl greens for Noct’s hungry chocobo. “But he wouldn’t stay at my camper and didn’t let me call a doctor. Said you lot were right behind him and he’d only just gone on ahead.”

The frown on Wiz’s face told Noct there was some real concern there, but he tried not to let that set him back into a panic. Prompto’s bird was still at the Post and that meant he had to be close by. There was no way he could have gotten far on foot in his condition and that meant there was hope of finding him at least.

Heart heavy but hopeful, Noct opened up Prompto’s contact again. He hovered his finger over the ‘call’ button, and nearly had a heart attack when his phone lit up before he could, ringer on full blast. Shockingly, it wasn’t Ignis, but Prompto.

Noctis answered the call before the first two rings had even finished, and brought the device up to his ear so quickly he nearly knocked himself in the head with it.

“Prompto?” He asked, heart beating a mile a minute.

“Noct,” the voice on the other end said. It sounded weak, but relieved, and blissfully like Prompto.

“Are you okay? Where are you?” 

“By Wiz,” Prompto replied. Noct could hear pain in his voice and without waiting another moment he put the call on speaker so he could switch to the tracker app. Prompto’s phone was at last on screen, blinking not too far from his location.

“Don’t worry, Prom, I’m close,” He said, bringing the phone back to his ear and practically sprinting in the direction of Prompto’s dot. He couldn’t ask his chocobo to keep going, but this short journey he could easily make on foot.

“Noct,” Prom said again, breathless, and Noct felt his heart clench when he heard a drawn out groan of pain from the other end. “I… I think it’s coming.” 

Prompto sounded pained and panicked and Noctis couldn’t move fast enough, racing through the Nebulawood as quickly as his feet could take him.

“It’s okay, buddy, I’m close. Are you safe?”

“You shouldn’t come,” He heard Prompto say after another moan of pain, and the conflict was clear in his labored voice. 

“Fuck that,” Noctis bit out, and paused only when he happened across a worn and seemingly abandoned barn. Sure enough, Prompto’s dot blinked happily from inside. He hung up the call without preamble and summoned a sword to throw at the building, impatiently warping the last few feet. A thin cry of pain could easily be heard even from outside, and Noctis burst in as quick as he could, pausing in the doorway just long enough to close the door and quickly scan the room with his eyes.

“Prompto!” He called when his friend didn’t appear to be nearby. Another cry drew his attention to a flight of stairs, and he took them two at a time even as the neglected wood protested under his feet.

Sure enough, Prompto was on the next floor, laid atop what looked like a hastily drawn-together pile of hay and thin blankets. Noctis warped the few feet it took to reach him, and practically stumbled to his side.

“Prompto,” he breathed when pained blue eyes sought his. Prompto’s hair was a mess, hanging limp and slightly damp in his face, drawn up with pain and fear. Tears were gathered in the corner of his eyes, and Noctis wanted nothing more than to kiss them away.

“Noct,” Prompto whispered, and drew Noct’s attention down to his swollen stomach when he tossed his head back and seized the swollen mass of it with tight fingers. “Oh, gods,” he cried, and Noct saw his legs tremble. He was still wearing his jeans, but even in the dim light of the barn Noctis could tell there was a slightly dark spot between his legs.

 

Noctis had to swallow against a painfully dry throat, and pushed back as much of his roiling panic as possible.

“Should,” he started, stuttered, stopped, “we should get your pants off.”

 

“I couldn’t,” Prompto said, even as Noctis found the fly undone and the material pulled down slightly, as if Prompto had had the idea but had been unable to execute it.

Even just thinking about Prompto in the barn, alone and too weak and in pain to pull his own pants down, made Noct’s heart stutter. Somehow he’d expected to get through this without help?

“It’s okay,” he soothed, and gripped the material as hard as it took to keep his hands from shaking, “I’m here now.”

Tight jeans were hard to pull off another person, especially when they were unable to move much and prone to stopping to deal with a lapse of pain, but together they persisted until at last Noct tossed them a pace away. 

He hadn’t seen Prompto’s business since they’d had sex, what felt like years ago after everything that had happened, and he was shamed to find that even in these circumstances the sight of him could quicken Noct’s heartbeat.

Forcing his eyes up to Prompto’s face, he found his friend’s cheeks dusted pink and his head firmly tilted away in what seemed like shame or embarrassment.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he said, hand on Prompto’s arm and an awkward smile that probably looked like a grimace on his face.

The rest of Prompto’s attire was probably fine to leave on, Noct decided. He’d swapped his tight fitted shirt and Crownsguard vest for a loose tee at some point, but even though the fabric hung off of him Noctis could easily make out the large swell of his stomach now. It was more than a little unnerving, but nothing more than watching Prompto brace himself against pain and spread his unclothed legs.

It seemed that the pain was coming more frequently now, though Prompto looked like he was holding in his verbal reactions by biting at his lip and clenching his hands.

“Is the pain that bad?” Noct asked.

“This is literally the most pain I have ever been in,” Prompto confirmed after another fit had passed, practically panting to catch his breath after holding it through the episode.

“Even more than that time you jumped off that second-story balcony in 9th grade to impress Bella Odalis and broke your arm in two places?” 

Years later, that story never failed to make Prompto smile and, sure enough, even while in the worst pain of his life, there was that smile. It was thin with pain, sure, but the sight of it put Noct more at ease than anything.

“Uh, yeah,” Prompto said, and even chuckled, though it was the weakest one Noct had ever heard, “way worse. Though, ah, you watching me push s-something out of my fucking vagina might not quite top the shame of our whole class watching me eat shit and cry.” 

Joking in their circumstance seemed out of place but was definitely a relief, and Noct found himself smiling right along with Prompto. At least, until that smile dropped from Prompto’s face as he road out another wave of pain.

“F-fuck,” he whimpered when it was over, and Noctis grasped his hand. “Noct… I’m so fucking scared.”

Not that he wanted to admit it to the person that was suffering, but Noctis was too. He swallowed, and held pain-glassy eyes with his own.

“It’ll be okay, Prom. You’re gonna get through this, okay? I’m not going anywhere.” The confidence in Noct’s voice was all for show, of course. He was probably the least helpful person to have around with a baby on the way. Ignis? He would have been ideal. Even without the internet he probably had some idea how the process went. Even Gladio knew more about childbirth than Noct, and his experience capped when his sister had been born more than 15 years before. 

“Hey, where’s Iggy?” Prompto asked, as if the thought had just occurred to him. Probably he was weighing Noct’s usefulness, too.

“I, uh, I’m not sure,” Noct admitted, “They were gonna send Cor after you instead so I gave them the slip.” 

“Figures,” Prompto groaned, and let his head fall back against what had to be the least-cushioned makeshift bed Noct had ever seen. “Dumb move, Your Highness.”

“Learned it from you,” Noct childishly rebutted. 

Pressure on Noct’s hand was the first indication that Prompto was in pain again, and Noct pushed sweaty bangs off Prompto’s forehead while he road out the new wave.

“Maybe I should call him,” Noctis said, and pulled out his phone. Prompto’s expression was clearly divided, as if he couldn’t decide if the pros of having the guy with some minor field-medic experience on hand outweighed the cons of having other people around to bare witness. In the end, he didn’t protest, so Noctis called.

Ignis answered on the first ring, sounding twice as panicked and frazzled as Noctis had ever heard him.

“Noct! Are you alright? Where are you?”

 

“Iggy. I’m okay. I’m… with Prompto.”

“Where,” Ignis stressed, and Noct wet his lips.

“Nebulawood. By Wiz’s.”

Immediately, Noctis could make out the faint squeal of unhappy tires.

“How is Prompto?” Noctis was glad Ignis apparently didn’t plan on tearing him a new one over the phone, though the relief was short lived when Prompto gripped his hand again.

“Not great. He’s…. It’s happening.”

Ignis swore softly, probably away from the phone.

“Do you see anything yet?”

“No, um. But I don’t know what to do.”

“We are on our way. Keep your phone on. Do not move unless you are in immediate danger. Keep Prompto comfortable. His body knows what to do, tell him not to fight it. If there are any complications, Noct, call me immediately.”

“Okay.”

“And, Noct. Defend yourself if necessary.”

“How far are you?” Noctis asked, rather than reply. There was a short silence on the other end before Ignis spoke again, sounding slightly shamed.

“Three hours.”

With that, the call was ended. Noctis placed his phone down and tried to ignore the shaking of his hands. Who could say what three more hours of labor with a demon child could bring?

“They’re coming, Prom,” Noctis said, hoping he sounded reassured. “Iggy says to just keep you comfortable in the meantime and to let your body do its thing.”

It was clearly not the answer Prompto was looking for, but he nodded. Noctis chanced another peek between Prompto’s legs and when there was nothing of note to see, he patted his knee.

Prompto’s hay and threadbare sheet bed was something Noct could fix, at least, so he grabbed all the blankets and sleeping bags from the armiger and arranged them on top of one another until there was some amount of padding on top of the hard wooden floor. Noctis had to help Prompto to his feet, and support a good amount of his weight, but together they crossed the few steps to the more appropriate birthing suite. It was still less than ideal, but when Prompto laid down at least he had a pillow under his head and a blanket over his mostly-exposed form.

 

The first half an hour was hard, but passed more or less the same. Prompto laid down, they spoke, and when a contraction hit Noct held his hand and smoothed his hair from from his face. It seemed the longer things went on, the worse each contraction was, but a quick internet search pointed out that that was normal. Or, rather, as normal as anything in this situation could be.

When half an hour was up, Prompto struggled to sit up.

“I gotta walk around, dude, this is killing me.”

So Noct hoisted him up and wrapped an arm around his waist and, together, they navigated the barn. It wasn’t a very comfortable space, with dim lighting coming from mostly boarded up windows, and wood clearly worn down and creaking. Noct draped a blanket over Prompto’s shoulders to keep the chill out and helped him avoid loose floorboards, and paused with him whenever Prompto needed to catch his breath or ride out a contraction.

It was, easily, the most nerve wracking half hour of Noct’s life.

At least, until the next half hour, when Prompto nearly dropped to his knees from the pain of a contraction and clung to Noct to keep upright, slowly lowering into a squat with help.

The new position seemed to help, but there were tears on Prompto’s lashes when Noct rubbed his back and kissed the side of his head.

“Gods,” Prompto cried, sounding panicked again, “I think something’s happening.”

Sure enough, before either of them could comprehend what was happening, there was a more obvious gush of liquid from between Prompto’s legs. They both froze, and slowly turned to face each other. Though neither of them were ready and Ignis wasn’t due for another two and a half hours, it was clearly showtime.


	5. Chapter 5

With the rush of liquid, thankfully on the other side of the room, came the worst of the pain. He’d been forced to kneel in his own fluids, shaking and leaning heavily against Noct, for what felt like minutes before the pain passed enough that Noct could help him to his feet. The walk back to their makeshift bed was excruciating, and Prompto felt increasingly bad for the hand he was crushing, even if Noct didn’t complain once about the abuse.

Laying back down was hard, especially considering how low to the ground he had to stoop, but Noct braced his weight and helped ease him down. It was much more comfortable than the hay he’d been laying in earlier, but the pain and discomfort was way worse than before and getting comfortable seemed impossible.

“This hurts so bad,” He whimpered, and squeezed his eyes shut. Noct was crouched beside him in an instant, pushing damp bangs off his forehead and grabbing water from the ether. He helped Prompto take a few sips and fluffed his pillows. When he’d lain in discomfort for a few minutes, Noct even pulled another few from the armiger to stuff under his back.

Minutes later and the pain had grown even more intense. It seemed no sooner had one contraction ended that another began. Prompto buried his face in a pillow hugged to his chest, and tried not to cry.

“Maybe I should check?” Noct said, unsure, eying the legs Prompto had firmly clenched shut. Check for what, Prompto wasn’t sure he wanted to know. A head? Tendrils? The same viscous black sludge he was pumped full of in his dreams?

Another contraction hit and Prompto had to fight his own body to keep his legs shut. Noctis placed a warm hand on his thigh and Prompto gripped it tight.

“I don’t want you to,” He whimpered like a small, scared child. Not looking wasn’t going to change the outcome, but some small part of Prompto felt like not acknowledging what was coming would somehow prolong the inevitable.

“But I should.” Noct argued, voice as soothing as the hand he was rubbing into Prompto’s trembling thigh. Slowly, Noctis coaxed his legs apart, though it was clear from the gentle pressure he was giving Prompto time to snap them shut again if he felt like it. Against his own better judgement, Prompto let his legs spread, and made absolutely sure not to look at Noct’s face for the reaction, or anywhere near his belly or legs in fear of seeing something himself.

The sharp intake of breath from his friend was clearly masked, but made Prompto shoot his eyes over to Noct in alarm.

“What?” He demanded, heart beating faster, but was distracted by another wave of excruciating pain. All he wanted was to curl up into himself, but Noct still had hands on each of his knees.

“Nothing,” Noct said in a rush. It was clearly a lie. “How’s the pain?”

“So bad,” Prompto managed through grit teeth. “There’s so much pressure.”

“Maybe you should try… y’know.”

‘Y’know’ was undoubtedly pushing but pushing would mean something coming out and Prompto couldn’t get his heart to stop racing at the thought. He just wanted to hold his legs together and pretend none of this was happening. 

His body, unfortunately, had other plans. This time, with the contraction came an unbearable pressure. Something told him urgently to push and he cried out with the pain and gripped at his spread thighs.

“No,” He gasped, even as he threw his head back into his pillow, “I’m not ready! Noct, I’m not ready!”

“You can do it,” Noctis coached. His voice was slightly shaky, but Prompto wasn’t in any position to focus on what that meant. He was too preoccupied with not pushing, which was becoming increasingly harder.

“No, I can’t!” He cried, and bounced his leg in an attempt to distract from the pain. His body felt like it was thrumming with it.

“Prompto, listen to your body. Ignis said not to fight it, remember?”

“I can’t!” He said again. “I can’t do this, Noct. I’m not ready. I don’t want to do this.”

“But you have to,” Noctis said after a moment, and when their eyes met Prompto saw his own fear reflected in his friend’s eyes. “Prompto, you can’t just keep it in there forever.”

“Can’t we wait?” He asked, and hated how much of a frightened plea it was, “until Ignis is here?” He wouldn’t want to do it then, either, but at least Noctis could go outside and Gladio would be around to kill the thing if necessary and he would have two and a half more hours to calm his heart and stop shaking.

Noctis glanced down at his vagina and then back up to his face. 

“Can you even do that?”

“Totally,” he said, even though the urge came back stronger than ever. He bit his lip and clenched his eyes shut and clung to the hand Noct offered.

“Help me sit up,” He said when the pain had passed, “I can wait, it’s okay. It’s not that bad anymore.” 

Noctis looked reluctant and like he clearly didn’t believe him but helped get him off his back with some effort and arranged the pillows so Prompto could sit. It was easier to press his legs closed like that, and Prompto hid his face in his arms and rocked his body with each new wave of pain. Noctis looked stricken and uncertain when Prompto chanced a peek at him, but when he reached a hand out for him Noct moved to his side and rubbed his back immediately.

“It’ll be okay, Prom,” he said, low and soothing, and Prompto gratefully leaned into him.

 

**

Holding back the urge to push was so much harder than Prompto could have expected. Each contraction was worse than the one before it, and brought a hellish pressure. After a while, he couldn’t hold back his noises of pain any longer, and Noctis moved to his front so Prompto could drape himself across Noct’s shoulders and press his face into his chest.

It was all manageable, however, and he must have stayed like that for another half an hour, just laying against Noct and rocking his body through the pain, at least until one particular contraction hit that shook him to his core. The pressure was the worst it had ever been and Prompto gasped as he felt something press against his opening from inside.

“Oh, gods, it’s coming out!” He felt Noctis stiffen underneath him, even as he clung to his friend for dear life. “Noct, oh fuck!” He had to clench his hands into fists and force his legs closed, but Noct gently tipped him onto his back and placed his hands on Prompto’s knees.

“Prompto, let it happen,” He said, sounding way more confident than he rightfully should have.

“No, Noct! You shouldn’t be here when it comes!” Another contraction caused him to shout and clench up again. 

“Prompto, they’re still almost two hours out! You can’t keep delaying this.” Prompto felt Noct’s hands slowly part his legs again, but this time he stopped after just a few inches, clearly seeking his permission.

“Prompto,” Noct said again, “I’m not going anywhere. Just trust me.”

It took another two contractions for Prompto to finally let his legs open, and only because the pain was so bad his body reacted of its own accord. He spread them wide himself with a cry and clenched hands in the sheets underneath him, all but sobbing in pain.

 

If Noct reacted to what he saw, Prompto didn’t know because he was too preoccupied, but when he came back to himself Noct was draping a blanket over his lap.

“Okay,” he said, and sounded truly shaken. “Your body knows what to do. What is it saying?”

“T-to push,” Prompto at last admitted, and watched as Noct moved his eyes away from whatever he was clearly hiding. “N-Noct?” 

The panic in his voice drew Noct’s attention and though his friend tried to smile it did nothing to calm him. But another contraction came before Prompto could even consider asking what he saw, and instead he cried.

“I have to push, Noct!” He said, hoping to warn his friend as much as he could, and at last let his body bear down on the intrusive object making its descent. 

“That’s it,” Noct said, tone encouraging as Prompto pushed with all his might. It must have lasted a full minute before he was forced to stop and rest.

“It hurts,” he whimpered and spread his legs a little further. The pressure died down with the contraction, but came back full force with the next. This time, he pushed again, and groaned with effort and the feeling of the object moving down another small amount.

It went like that for several minutes. A contraction would hit and Prompto would bear down during the whole of it, until he felt ready to collapse under the strain. He would let up, panting for breath, and barely have time to rest until the process started anew. The pain was unbearable but Noct was encouraging, and actually giving in and pushing helped deal with the pressure.

But a few minutes became 10, then 15, and Noctis had yet to announce any progress. 

“Noct, I really can’t do this,” Prompto practically sobbed when 20 minutes passed and he had no head or tendrils to show for it. He had felt the creature descending, but no more.

“I can see something, but it’s not coming out,” Noct eventually admitted, and read Prompto’s face for a moment before tentatively placing a hand over his throbbing opening. “I could try to stretch you,” he suggested quietly, and Prompto could plainly see the fear still in his eyes.

“Gods, anything,” He moaned.

When the next contraction hit he pushed again, but this time felt Noct’s fingers slip inside around the bulbous thing inside him. It made the pressure worse, especially when those fingers tugged and stretched at his already taught lips. He cried at the sensation but only stopped pushing when the contraction at last stopped.

He could feel Noct’s fingers inside him even as he lay still and panting, offering a gentle pressure around the ring of his pulsing opening. It certainly felt like he was coaxing it further open, but Prompto couldn’t see the progress to be sure.

“Is this okay?” Noctis asked, quiet, and Prompto thought back to the last time Noct had asked him that while hovering between his legs. Then, it had been his cock at Prompto’s entrance, and lust making his voice low and raspy. Then, he’d pushed in painfully slowly, seeking out the nonverbal answer to his question even after Prompto assured him he’d wanted nothing more.

Noct’s fingers were a far cry from his cock, especially in this situation, but Prompto nodded and dispelled the fantasy. Truthfully, he didn’t like the sensation, but he trusted Noct and wanted nothing more than to be done with the entire process. 

So when the next contraction him, he let Noct continue. Same for the next, and the next. Noctis gradually pulled and loosened his throbbing lips and, together, after another few minutes of arduous work, Prompto felt the object descend again. Centimeter by painful centimeter, Prompto felt his lips stretch ever wider around the whole bulbous mass of it. He groaned and cried and screamed when it felt that the thing would tear him in two, and when it seemed to reach its most wide Prompto screwed his eyes shut painfully tight and halted Noct with a shaking hand on his chest. 

He couldn’t go any wider, he’d never prepared for this sort of stretch. Any further and he would surely split open. He told Noct so, shaking with the effort of keeping his now sore legs spread. Pained tears spilled down his cheeks. Noct kissed them away, touch impossibly gentle.

“One more push, Prom,” he coaxed, gentle hands tentatively placed on either side of his stretched lips. Noct wasn’t so great at healing spells, that was why he ended up enchanting energy drinks rather than cure directly, but Prompto could have sworn he felt something where Noct touched, almost like a soothing balm.

That was what let him push again, what got him through that final hellish moment of liquid fire. The pressure in that moment was all-encompassing, intense and terrible and Prompto shouted with it, even as he felt another gush of liquids and then, finally, blissfully, a moment of respite. His entrance throbbed terribly but the wide gerth of the bulbous object seemed to have gone. He laid back, heart beating wildly and breath coming in gasps, and let himself sag against the pillows and blankets, spent.

 

***

The head passed in a rush of dark liquids and a sudden, loud, pain-filled shout from Prompto. Almost immediately after, his friend went almost limp, limbs shaking and breath coming out in exhausted pants. Noctis wanted to check on him, make sure Prompto was okay, but the blood oozing from his angry-looking opening told him what he needed to know. The strangely black, demonic face of the creature he had begun to birth told him more than he wanted.

Of course, Noct had known his friend to be correct about his affliction since the moment Prompto first spread his legs and he saw the strange black mass peeking from between his lips. It hadn’t been hair, of that Noct could tell even then, but to see the actual head hanging between his friend’s trembling legs was another matter altogether. 

Gods, and it was huge. Noctis couldn’t even imagine the pain Prompto must have been in. 

“Are you okay?” Noctis asked, tentative, almost afraid of the answer. Prompto groaned weakly, and Noct’s heart clenched when he saw more tears slip down his cheeks.

“Is it done?” Prompto asked, thin and weak and pained, and Noctis placed a soothing hand on his leg. He had to force his eyes away from the chilling face of the demonic baby.

“Not quite,” He replied. “The, uh,” he paused, unsure if he should give Prompto the details, “first part’s done.”

Prompto’s visibly deflated, yet more tears spilling down his cheeks. Noctis quickly reached up to wipe them away with the clean corner of a blanket, his hands covered in blood so dark it looked black. Another contraction seemed to hit, but Prompto didn’t try to push this time, just scrunched his face up and held his breath.

“Noct,” he whimpered when the pain seemed to pass, “I can’t do this.”

“You’re already doing it,” Noct replied, “That was the hard part. It’s all smooth sailing now.”

It wasn’t smooth sailing, even when Noct’s encouragement and the pain of Prom’s contractions got him to push again. He pushed and strained again and again, until he was crying freely and dropping exhausted legs.

“I can’t,” Prompto wept, “Something’s wrong.”

The whole situation was wrong, but a Moogle search confirmed that babies could get stuck. Shoulder dystocia, Moogle helpfully supplied, was more common with large children. The head of the thing parading as a baby was unfairly huge, and Noctis looked up all he could as fast as he could while Prompto covered his face with an arm and gripped the blankets with his free fist.

“Okay,” he said when he was done, and hoped the tremble in his voice wasn’t very obvious. He would need to try guiding the thing out, even though the thought of it made his heart beat way too hard and fast. 

Tentatively, Noct placed hands on the hanging head and applied a small amount of downward pressure. Prompto gasped and twitched and Noct immediately let go and jerked his gaze up to seek his face.

“Did that hurt?” He asked, heart hammering. 

Prompto sucked in a shaky breath. When he spoke his voice was thin and rough from crying. “Everything hurts.”

“Moogle,” Noct started, hesitated, and had to swallow around a dry throat before he could continue, “Moogle says sometimes, uh, s-shoulders get stuck behind the pelvic bone.” When Prompto didn’t react, Noct kept going, “I guess it helps when someone twists the, um… when someone twists it from outside.”

Prompto’s eyes were pleading and so full of pain and unshed tears. Noct felt like crying himself, but forced the temptation down and gripped the strange demon again instead.

“I’m gonna do that, okay?” He asked, hesitant and wanting to give Prompto as much warning as possible. He deserved that much.

Another contraction came before Prompto could respond, and even though it was clear he was pushing hard, Noct didn’t feel the limp head move at all. 

“Okay,” Prompto rushed out when the contraction had passed, “Just get it out of me, Noct.”

All too hesitantly, Noct applied that downward pressure again. There was some minor give as it stretched Prompto’s already-abused opening, and a loud noise of surprise from his friend. It must not have felt pleasant, because his face was scrunched up when Noct chanced a look at him but he continued, turning the creature slowly. Prompto gasped again, spent legs twitching slightly.

“I gotta push,” Prompto managed, and bore down even as Noct rotated the beast inside him. It certainly moved, but not forward, and only seconds into the contraction Prompto’s gasp turned to a loud noise of pain. Noct let go immediately, scared eyes on Prompto again.

“D-don’t turn it,” Prompto pleaded, and Noct nodded briskly, trembling hands settling on either side of the hanging head instead. He poured a little more energy out from his hands, healing as much as his stunted magic would allow, and felt relieved when it smoothed a little of the tense lines of pain on Prompto’s face.

He tried pushing again, without Noct’s intervention this time, and again. The shoulders were still stuck. Even worse, each new push just seemed to hurt Prompto worse and his panic was clearly mounting. Just a few more pushes in and he was back to weeping and clinging onto the blankets beneath him and begging Noct to make it stop.

“Please, Noct, I can’t do this anymore,” Prompto cried pitifully.

Worrying his bottom lip, Noct wiped his bloody hands on a blanket and grabbed his phone. 

“I’m calling Ignis,” He announced, and was relieved when it was answered right away.

“What’s wrong?” Ignis asked immediately, clearly worried.

“He’s been--it’s happening. The hea..uh… the first part is out but it’s stuck.” Panicking wasn’t going to help anything, and would only heighten Prompto’s own nerves, but the longer he spoke the more he could feel it seeping into his tone. “Moogle says to turn it but it hurt Prom when I did! Iggy, I don’t know what to do.”

“Deep breaths,” Iggy commanded on the other end. He instructed Noct to side fingers in around the demon’s neck and feel for the shoulder, and to make sure Prompto’s legs were pushed back toward his body. His voice seemed much more uneven than Noct was used to, and Noct was hit by the fact that Ignis didn’t know any better than him. How many babies had Ignis delivered? A firm zero, same as him.

“Can you hold your legs up higher, Prom?” Noct asked, phone discarded. Prompto shook his head, clearly exhausted.

“I can’t, dude,” Prompto whimpered, leftover tears still clinging to his lashes. Noct had never seen him this defeated before.

“I gotcha, buddy,” Noct soothed and pushed Prompto’s legs back for him. To Prompto’s chest, Ignis had instructed. Noct held them there, even though he could feel the muscles in his friend’s legs tremble with the strain. It still seemed to be more or less a relief for Prompto, after holding them for so long himself. 

Prompto pushed again on the next contraction, and then on the next. The new position seemed to help, he watched the demon shift slightly with each push, turning just so on its own every time Prompto bore down. 

Noctis pressed Prompto’s legs back against his chest as much as he could and watched the way they splayed out on either end of his distended stomach. The shirt hid the sight of his stomach from view for the most part, but his legs so close bunched the fabric around the swollen mass of it, showing its true size. Noct could hardly compare this version of Prompto’s body to his usual compact form.

Distracted, it took Noct a moment to realize something new seemed to be happening. Prompto screamed, completely shifting his attention back. Noct watched, transfixed, as slightly more of the beast emerged, spreading his abused hole ever wider.

“Hold your legs,” He managed to instruct, and let trembling hands lower to tentatively touch the creature. Prompto let out a noise of pain, face scrunched up and hands gripping his thighs tight enough to bruise. Noct slid a hand beneath the demon’s body and used the other to guide it, applying pressure the way he had before. A shoulder popped out, followed by a new gush of dark liquid, and just as Noct was about to pull out the second one Prompto screamed again, this time higher pitched and clearly in more agony than before.

“There’s something c-caught,” He managed, voice high with panic, “Oh, Six, Noct, get it out!”

Truly panicked, Noct had to stop himself from just yanking the beast out. Hyper conscious of Prompto’s discomfort, he slid a hand alongside the creature and gingerly slipped his fingers past Prompto’s weeping entrance. It was still more than strange to be inside him considering the circumstances, but Noct’s touch was purely searching.

What he found confused him. It was clearly a shoulder that Prompto had passed, but Noct felt something else brush against his fingers, splayed out and wider than what Prompto had already birthed. Another shoulder? Was that possible? The creature was demonic—anything was possible when the rules were already broken. But then it hit him, an attribute certain demons possessed.

Wings. The demon had wings.

“Prom,” Noct said as he pulled his hand out and away. His heart was racing painfully, his mind going about as fast. He didn’t want to give Prompto too many details about the monster he was giving birth to but this wasn’t something he could keep from him. This wasn’t something he thought he could feasibly deal with, either. Wings? Humans didn’t give birth to things with wings. Winged creatures came out of eggs, they didn’t come down a birth canal only for said wings to get caught behind a pubic bone. 

“It has wings,” he finally admitted, voice tight.

“What do we do?” Prompto whimpered, so clearly pained and scared, and turned wide, terrified eyes toward him. It wasn’t the first time Prompto had placed so much blind trust in him. Noct often led him into life or death battles. But it was humbling to have that trusting gaze placed on him now, in a situation he had no control over. 

Noct wet dry lips and racked his brain for a plan. No matter what, he wouldn’t let Prompto down. He couldn’t. It was clear that Prompto couldn’t do it alone, the wings were pushed against the body, of course, but with the shoulder out it was being held back by the bone. Could he reach in and help pull it free? 

“It’s gonna be okay,” He soothed, and bit his lip, already moving his hand back. “You gotta keep your legs up, Prom.”

“What are you gonna do?” Prompto asked, voice high with panic.

“Just trust me, I’m gonna try something.” Noct replied, and gently slid his hand back inside around the creature. Immediately, Prompto whimpered again, probably at the painful stretch, but Noct didn’t let his noises of pain deter him. He slid fingers around the wing as best he could and pulled it closer to its body, hopefully making it more streamlined for expulsion. 

Chancing a look up, Noct saw Prompto’s face contorted in pain and winced in sympathy.

“I gotta push, Noct,” He groaned, and Noct gripped the beast with his other hand. This time, as Prompto pushed, Noct pulled, unmindful of what his rough grip must be like for the demon. They were both panicking, Noct’s own nerves making him a little rash, but he knew he couldn’t let Prompto suffer like this much longer. Prompto cried out in pain, but Noct didn’t let up and instead slid what he could of his other hand in on the other side to pinch the other wing down to its shoulder.

The added girth just made Prompto cry harder, head thrown back and mouth open in pain. The grip he’d had on his legs seemed to give out slightly. 

“Keep going!” He encouraged and tried not to let the pain he was clearly inflicting deter him. Instead he pulled again, biting his lip when Prompto shouted with it, tears falling past his lashes. 

Pouring as much healing energy into Prompto as he could, Noct pulled on the prone beast again, slowly inching the wing and the second shoulder free.

It was only once he saw two shoulders and the very tips of two wings that Noct let go. His hands were shaking and covered in blood but he was completely unmindful of it as he loomed over Prompto, eyes wide with worry and fear. He placed a tentative hand on Prompto’s swollen stomach and another on his arm, seeking some affirmation that he was okay. His friend’s face was still contorted, his eyes screwed shut in pain.

“Prom? Prom, are you okay?” 

Slowly, a sliver of teary blue opened. There was only pain in the expression, no anger, and Noct had to swallow back his emotions. 

“Prom, it’s almost done now. The shoulders are both out and the wings aren’t stuck. You just gotta push a little more when you’re ready, okay?” 

Muscles trembling, Prompto let his legs drop fully and pinned Noct with a look that showed just how exhausted he really was.

“I can’t anymore, Noct,” he whimpered weakly, “just get it out of me, please.”

Exhausted and in pain, Prompto found the strength only to whimper when Noct started pulling the beast out again. The feeble noise of pain just made Noct’s heart clench again and he had to consciously pull slowly, unmindful of the demon, surely, but not wanting to hurt Prompto even worse. The creature was big and was connected to Prompto by a cord, same as a human might have been. It was covered in that same nearly-black blood and when at last it was pulled free, a rush of that same liquid gushed out of his friend’s slackened hole. 

Not wanting Prompto to see the creature, Noct quickly wrapped it in a blanket and set it aside, praying that it hadn’t survived. Demon or no, he wasn’t looking forward to killing it. 

The sac it was connected to was pulled out easily enough, though Noct had to actively fight from gagging when at last it was discarded along with the grotesque creature.

“You still with me, buddy?” Noct asked the moment it was done, already reaching into the void for their stock of potions and pouring one over Prompto’s abused opening.

The tears were flowing freely down his friend’s cheeks, now, and when Noct anxiously crawled to his side Prompto reached shaking hands up around his neck and weakly pulled him in close. 

Prompto’s whole body was trembling as Noct laid down to wrap protective arms around him, and they laid together just like that until at last the sound of the car roused them, not an hour later.

Gladio disposed of the demon, though Noctis didn’t stick around long enough to see how, and Ignis immediately set to work disposing of the rest of the evidence. Noct, his part done, left them to it and instead gathered Prompto’s still-trembling form into his arms, much more steady now that the worst had passed, and carried him to the car. 

He slid Prompto into the back seat, climbed in beside him and pulled Prompto close, let him weep quietly into his neck and rubbed soothing circles into his back and whispered his love into his ear. When Prompto turned trembling lips toward him, he returned the kiss with gentle, chaste pressure, and promised him it would all be okay.

One day, maybe it really would be.


End file.
